Cabo
by foreveravalon
Summary: House and Cameron go on vacation to Cabo San Lucas. Sequel to "Stuck", takes place six months later.
1. Chapter 1

House couldn't believe he was in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Voluntarily. He was laying on a blue chaise lounge, with Cameron lying beside him on her own chaise, both of which were shaded by a cabana.

And yet, he was still convinced that this was the hottest fucking place on the entire planet. Why the hell had agreed to come on this stupid vacation in the first place?

He looked over to his left, at the glass of tequila sitting on the table between him and Cameron. Condensation was running down the side of the glass, and pooling around the base. His eyes refocused, and found Cameron's taut stomach. A drop of sweat was slowly making its way down her tan abdomen. She was wearing the tiniest red bikini he had ever seen, and it left nothing to the imagination.

House licked his lips and tasted salt.

"Tell me Cameron, when you were booking this vacation, did you purposefully try to find a place with 100 humidity, or was that just a bonus?" 

Cameron looked over at him and smiled, unbothered by his bad attitude, "It's not_ that_ bad."

"It is that bad, actually. And profuse sweating is not a good look for me." 

Cameron pulled down her sunglasses and looked over every inch of his body. He was shirtless, and his torso was beaded with sweat. His blue swim trunks (extra long to hide his scar) were bunched up around his crotch. She wagged her eyebrows at him, "You look good enough to eat to me."

"Bullshit. I look like I've been trapped in a sauna for three hours. OH WAIT I HAVE." 

"How does your leg feel?" Cameron countered. 

House sulked, "It's alright. The heat helps. But we could have gone to the desert, instead of Cabo San Sweat My Ass Off." 

"If you're so miserable, go cool off in the water." Cameron said, and motioned towards the azure blue ocean.

"You can't cool off in _bathwater_, Cameron." Seeing that House was not going to shut up, or let this go, Cameron sighed and stood slowly. She stood next to his lounge, and stretched, arching her back with a groan of pleasure. House watched as another drop of sweat ran down the perfect bow of her back, and disappeared into her bathing suit bottom. Which was tied together. Like she was a present for him to open.

House surripticiously adjusted himself, because his penis didn't seem to care that it was a million degrees outside, it just wanted to peel of that red bathing suit. 

He flinched back when Cameron held out her hand to him. 

"Seriously, you don't want to touch me right now. I'm disgusting."

Cameron frowned down at him and continued to hold out her hand. House ignored it, and glared at the various men who were casually hanging in the area around their cabana. All of them were young, with perfectly toned bodies, everything in working order, six pack abs, the works.

And they were all staring at Cameron, in that damn red bathing suit, and practically salivating all over themselves. 

"Baby! Come on. I'll help you to the water, and then you can float." 

"Aren't there sharks here?" House stalled, and hoped she would just give up. He couldn't think of anything more humiliating than hopping down the beach on his left leg while leaning his sweat soaked body all over Cameron, in front of all the Don Juan's gathered.

"No, there are no sharks." She said impatiently, and grabbed his hands. They slipped apart immediately - both of them had sweaty hands.

House made a disgusted face. "That was gross."

"Stop being such a girl, and get in the water." Cameron ordered, and offered her hand again.

Well his manhood was in question now, he couldn't just lay there. Reluctantly, he stood, and Cameron wrapped her right arm around his torso. House waited for her to pull back and squeal with digust, but she held onto him tight, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Leaning his weight on her, they hobbled down to the water.

It was embarrassing until he noticed that one of the men near their cabana was staring at House with jealous expression. Then he felt pretty damn good. It wasn't every day a young, athletic, overall handsome guy looked at him - a middle aged cripple - with envy.

Then they were in the water, and after they got past the waves (which Cameron kept them upright through), and they were in the area before the waves broke, House was buoyant. He could support himself with just his left leg.

Cameron dunked herself under the water, and came up with a grin. House smiled at her and floated on his back. And then suddenly he was under water - Cameron had dunked him. He came up sputtering, incredulous. 

Cameron was laughing - the look on his face was priceless. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. It was easy in the water, she weighed nothing at all.

"You're in big trouble now," He growled, with a dark promise in his eyes.

Cameron shrieked as he pulled her against his body, "For what!?"House laughed, "For being a saucy wench!" And he pinched her ass. 

Cameron decided it was in her best interest to try to distract him. He looked like he was about to tickle her, and he knew all her most ticklish places. With a sudden sly smile, she wrapped her long legs around his waist, and pressed their bodies together, "What's my punishment?"

He looked down at their groins pressed together under the water, and then let his eyes drift up. Her bikini top was killing him - soaking wet, it was like a second skin over her pert breasts, clinging to her erect nipples. 

"I could spank you." He suggested, and squeezed her ass with both hands. Cameron gasped, and ground her groin against his. That made his breath come out in a harsh pant.

"It will be difficult to do that here." She said, and reached down in between their bodies. She gripped his hard length in her hand, squeezing him through his bathing suit. He watched his face contort in an expression of half pain, half pleasure.

"What are we talking about?" He asked, and his eyes were struggling to focus.

Cameron sighed, kept her hand where it was, but leaned into him so she could rub her nipples over the hardness of his chest, "I just can't decide."

"Decide what?" He moaned, as she ran her tongue down the side of his neck. "What I want more - to have you inside me..." She pulled her hand away and rubbed herself against him again, "or in my mouth." And then she bit his chin gently.

House felt light headed - all the blood from his brain had fled to more demanding parts of his anatomy, "I would say pick both, but I think an underwater blowjob is a ten on the difficulty scale."

Cameron bit her lip, and gave him a coquettish look, "Untie my suit." She leaned back, floating on the water, with his body anchoring her in the water. Her hair swirled in the water around her head, and she looked up at the sky while House's fingers pulled the strings on the side of her bikini bottoms. 

"I think I'm actually starting to like Mexico..." House snarked, and Cameron gasped as he slid two long fingers inside her.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Cameron flexed her stomach, and grabbed onto House's flexed biceps, pulling her torso upright again. She buried her face in his neck as his fingers slid in and out, stretching and teasing her. A large wave lifted them as it passed, and when they came back down the other side, House suddenly wrapped both of his arms around Cameron's slim waist, and pulled her under.

His lips met hers, and it was a strange sensation, kissing underwater. But everything was warm and liquid around them, and all of her body was being caressed at once. She felt his teeth nipping her lips, felt his hands sliding up and down her ribs. Her lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen, and House pushed up with his left leg until they broke the surface of the water. Cameron gasped for air, and then his mouth was on hers again, and she could barely catch her breath. The lack of oxygen made her lightheaded, almost drunk, and every sensation was heightened. House's scruff was extra sharp on her skin; his lips were firm and supple on hers. His elegant fingers danced along her skin underwater, and brushed across her bathing suit top, teasing her aching nipples.

God, but he was good at foreplay. Even when he yanked her into his office or a storage closet at work for a quickie, there was always foreplay. It started with his eyes – the way those impossibly blue orbs would meet hers through out the day, and linger. Then it was kissing - he never neglected that. A lot of men would forgo that and go strait for the Promised Land, but House's mouth was always on hers, -battling, teasing, coaxing. She moaned as he kissed her in the here and now, sliding his expert tongue across hers, a mimic of what was to come.

Images flashed through her mind of the times they had done this in the past, flitting through her mind, enticing memories. The smell of clean sheets, the feel of sweat slicked skin, the sound of his breath, harsh in her ear as he gave it up for her. She rocked herself against him as memories from the week ran through her mind.

She remembered how he'd shaved for her – just once, really close – and how they'd made out like teenagers in his bed, with candles flickering around the room. They'd ground against one other in their jeans, and he knew just where to press his throbbing length over her, just where to push against her so that the friction would become too much for her to bear. She'd come crying, with his fingers laced through hers, pressing her to bed, their bodies rubbing together in earnest, his tongue deep in her mouth.

She'd been sore for a week after that, but it had been worth it.

Cameron broke from her reverie with a cry – House had finally pushed himself inside her, and he had to work for every inch. She gasped into his mouth as he started to pull back out – it always hurt when they first came together. But it was pain that mixed with pleasure, and coalesced into a sensation that felt a-fucking-mazing. She expected him to slam back into her, but he surprised her by pushing in just an inch, then pulling back until he was almost out, and then sinking deep.

"_Oh, God._" She whimpered, and raked her finger nails down the smooth expanse of his back. When he did this, it was always exquisite, and it always ended with a full body g-spot orgasm that made her lose her shit completely. Screaming helplessly as wave after wave of pleasure hit her was not something she wanted to in front of hundreds of other beach goers. She didn't really care if they suspected she and House were having sex, but she didn't want everyone in a five mile radius to hear her orgasm either.

"Baby, don't." She pleaded, as he repeated the motion, the head of his hard length rubbing against that intensely sensitive bundle of nerves, "_Please?_ I don't want everyone to know."

House grinned, unrepentant, "This is your punishment."

Cameron swallowed audibly, "Please pull us under water at the end, okay? Please?"

House hit that spot again, and she let out a small, embarrassing shriek.

"Beg for mercy." He whispered, and sped up just enough to bring her to the brink. Cameron shook, and her toes curled under the water, and she knew that in just a few more strokes, she would be completely helpless in the throes of a violent orgasm.

"I'll do_ anything_. Anything you want." She said, desperate, and House pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss, then yanked them both under the water. He hit her g-spot with just the right amount of force, and she wrapped herself tight around him as wave after wave of pleasure hit. A scream tore from her mouth when it became too much, and it sounded funny underwater, but she didn't care in the least. She couldn't even remember who she was when she was coming like this.

When the most intense part was over, House brought them back out of the water so she could gasp for air.

She trembled with aftershocks in his arms, and he hugged her tight.

"You're gonna regret promising me anything I want." He teased, biting her earlobe, and though his words were ominous, Cameron didn't care. She just laid her head against his shoulder, and relaxed, enjoying the feel of his body against hers, the water surrounding them, the warmth of the sun…all of it was just perfect. She felt safe, and warm, and loved.

What else could a girl ask for?


	3. Chapter 3

A shower, a change into clothing and a few hours later found House and Cameron waiting for their dinner in the hotel restaurant.

House was his usual cranky self. The sun and their aquatic adventure earlier in the day had given him a bitch of a headache, and the mariachi in the corner was butchering the hell out of _Desperado_. The waitress was incompetent beyond belief, and even though he felt like shit, and probably looked like it, Cameron looked radiant. Which made him even more irritable. 

The waitress finally brought their meal. House rubbed his hands together with anticipation. He was starving, and he'd ordered the biggest steak on the meager menu. It was well done - he wasn't taking any chances in this cesspit. The waitress placed the platter down in front of him, and when he looked down at the meat, his upper lip curled in disgust.

"What the _fuck_." He hissed to Cameron, "Why do they always insist on putting fruit in everything here? This is a steak, not a margarita." 

Cameron shushed him, worried the elderly couple nearby would be offended by his language, "Just scrape it off."

"What the hell _is_ it? I can't even tell what it is." House threw his hands up in the air.

"Its mango salsa." Cameron said through a wide smile at the older couple, and leaned over, hastily scraping the offending fruit off his steak. House gagged, and then stared at his steak, forlorn. It was ruined now. He looked over at Cameron's meal, a plain cheese Quesadilla, no fruit in sight, and felt a wave of longing. 

"You're not going to eat that steak now, are you?" Cameron asked, frustrated.

"It only cost like two dollars." House muttered, and pushed the plate away. Cameron sighed, and switched their plates. House lit up when the quesadilla was placed before him. He dug in ravenously, and Cameron neatly cut House's rejected steak into bite sized pieces.

Dating House was a lot like being with a ten year old boy. The slightest thing could set him off. But after eight months together, Cameron usually knew what to do to avoid the big show. Sure, she ended up eating what he ordered most of the time, but he looked so cute when he ate, she didn't mind all that much. He had somehow mastered the art of talking - animatedly - with a mouth full of food, without showing her any of his half masticated fare. He also rarely used utensils. 

"So," House said, his cheek full of cheesy quesadilla goodness, "What's the plan?"

"I was thinking we could take a nap, and then go for a walk on the beach tonight. There's going to be a full moon."

House pointed at his right leg, "Earth to Cameron! Walking on the beach is impossible with the bum leg."

Cameron winked at him, "Don't worry. I've taken care of it."

House frowned, "You found me a new leg? I'm kind of attached to this one. _Literally_." 

Cameron sighed, "I bought you a special cane, okay? This one can be used on the beach."

House narrowed his eyes, "You let me hop around the beach all day on one leg, when you had a beach-specific cane in your possession? That's just…wrong." 

"You wouldn't have used this cane during the day." 

"Unless it had Hello Kitty plastered all over it, fuck yes I would have."

Cameron plastered her best Stepford wife smile on her face and looked apologetically at the elder couple to their right, "It looks like an old man cane, okay? It has a large foot on the bottom to prevent slipping and greater surface area so it won't sink into the sand. I figured you wouldn't mind using it at night when no one else can really see it."

House considered this, and then nodded, "You're right, I probably wouldn't have used it today."

They shared a smile, and when they had finished their meal, the waitress came by with the check. To Cameron's surprise, House immediately picked it up, "I'll get it."

She laughed, "Are you sure? It might be a whole FIVE DOLLARS."

"Are you saying I'm cheap?" 

"Cheap, stingy, costive, miserly...pick one you like best."

"Costive?! I'm not constipated." 

Cameron snickered, and House pursed his lips with annoyance, "I'm frugal. There's a big difference."

"You make everyone else pay for things when you go out with them." 

"I only make Wilson do that. He's rich, he can afford it."

"He has three alimony payments a month." 

"Exactly. He used to paying for others," House made a face, "but I don't make you pay for everything."

"I paid for this vacation." Cameron pointed out.

"And I'm paying for this dinner. So we're even." House reasoned, and left a twenty dollar bill in the check fold.

Cameron stood, and they walked into the lobby together, "I suppose you pay for a lot of things in our relationship, in your own way."

House frowned, "How so? Because that has to stop immediately." 

"With sexual favors. I accept them as payment. I also take Visa."

House smirked, "I believe you owe _me_ sexual favors right now, Dr. Cameron. I recall you saying something earlier about anything I want."

Cameron wrapped her arm around his waist as they stepped onto the elevator, "And what do you want, Dr. House?"

He flashed her a wicked smile, and whispered his request in her ear.

Cameron blushed fiercely, wondering how in the world she was going to do _that_. And then she thought, well why not? A promise is a promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Cameron stood at the end of bed, feeling embarrassed and awkward as House set up his iPod and travel speakers on the bedside table.

The man wanted a striptease, music and all, and she'd promised him anything. And she couldn't just rip off all her clothes in a hurry - that was strictly forbidden. She had to do it right, had to dance, had to pull each article of clothing off _slowly_.

He flashed her a smile, and pressed play. Britney's "Slave for You" came on and Cameron rolled her eyes. There was no way she was dancing to that. House winked at her - he had just been teasing. He switched the music to something she didn't recognize - she crinkled her brow - but it sounded a lot like porn movie music.

"What is this?"

"Debbie Does Dallas. Now, no more stalling." He said, and lay back, propping himself up on his elbows for the big show. He looked downright scrumptious laying there like that, his jeans encasing his long legs and his t-shirt clinging to his biceps.

Cameron swallowed nervously. It was silly to be nervous - he'd seen her naked a thousand times. So she had to do a little swaying too - no big deal. Except that it _was_ terrifying, and she just prayed she didn't look like a complete idiot doing this.

She started with her hair, pulling her pony tail out. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in shiny waves. House watched intently, his eyes the color of sapphires. Cameron felt his eyes on her like hands, leaving no part untouched.

Cameron began to sway where she stood, and pulled her t-shirt up and over her head. Her hair fell again, this time around her white lace demi-cup bra. Cameron watched as House's Adam's apple bobbled - she could tell he was enjoying the show, meager though it was.

She unbuttoned her jeans next, and unzipped them. They both listened as each tooth released, until she dropped them to her feet. She was down to her lingerie now. Turning to the side, she moved her hips back and forth, and swept her hair up off her neck with her hands so he could see the long curve of her back.

She let her hair fall once more, and then her hands journeyed over her breasts, down her flat stomach, and then flirted with the waistband of her panties. She looked pointedly at the crotch of House's jeans, and let her small pink tongue dart out over her lips.

"Come here." House said, his voice thick.

Cameron approached slowly, but stayed just out of reach. House sat up slowly, and she wished his shirt was off - she always loved watching his abdominal muscles bunch and flex. With his gaze never leaving her face, she sank to her knees before him. Her fingers quickly undid the button fly of his jeans, releasing each button with practiced ease.

"You don't have to...you've paid your price." He said, giving her a way out. 

"I want to." Cameron smiled, and it was her turn to be wicked. She licked him from base to tip, before sinking her mouth over him. House lay back as his iPod switched to a live performance of Dave Matthew's _Two Step_. He let out a long groan - there wasn't much better in this life than having Cameron go down on him while listening to a genius play the guitar.

His hands clutched at the sheets as she worked on him, and Cameron hummed with pleasure. The fact that he never grabbed her head and forced her down was a huge point in his favor as a lover. He never treated her like a whore. Which was surprising, considering how many whores he'd fucked. Nonetheless, he always kept his hands away, grabbing at anything he could reach instead, scrambling for something to cling to.

He was getting close now, she could tell by how hard he felt in her mouth, the salty taste of him, and the ragged hitch of his breath. Cameron used her hand in addition to her mouth, concentrating her attention to the tip of him, and then he arched up off the bed. Cameron stayed where she was, sucking hard now. She hears him cry out, feels his come in her mouth, and swallows quickly.

She knows she doesn't have to - he never expects her to - but he likes it when she does. Ever since that night he'd admitted Stacy had rarely gone down on him, and that when she had, she always moved her head away at the end, Cameron had carried through to the end for him. He returned the favor by going down on her for so long she thought she was going to die from it.

As he tried to catch his breath, Cameron walked to the bathroom and started to brush her teeth. She can taste him in her mouth until the mint paste foams, but she doesn't mind it. She always brushes her teeth after because he's icked out by the thought of tasting himself. That should irritate her, but it doesn't. Its just who he is, she accepts it. 

"Did you ever do this before?" Cameron asked as she climbed back into bed. House had kicked off his pants, and was lying in his t-shirt and boxer briefs across the bed.

House rolled his eyes over to her and frowned, "No, I've never given a blowjob before. Not planning on it either."

Cameron swatted him, "No, I meant, did you ever go on vacation with your girlfriend before?"

He nodded, "Stacy and I would go on trips together now and then. Nowhere exotic though. We certainly never took a trip to _Me-hico_! Did you?"

"No, my husband's cancer was too far advanced."

"Surely you had other boyfriends." House said, incredulous.

"Yeah, but nothing serious enough for a vacation."

"Ohhhh, so we're serious now, are we?" He teased, poking her side.

Cameron poked him back, "We've been dating almost eight months. I'd say that qualifies."

"Mmmm." House hummed, and leaned over, kissing his way down her torso. Cameron knew where this was heading. House believed in reciprocity - if she went down on him, then he always went down on her.

Dave Matthew's _"Hunger for the Great Light" _came on over the stereo and Cameron smiled at the coincidence. She felt House laugh too - what irony that a song about oral sex would come on as he's about to give it.

_Here you go, you dirty girl, Good God, try to love try to oh…_

"Do you ever think we have sex too much?" Cameron asked, and he rolled his eyes up to hers, hovering over her belly button.

_I wanna see you open wide, And then I go down for you, I wanna blow your mind…._

"One can never have too much sex." House replied, and blew into her navel. Cameron sighed, half with pleasure, half with annoyance that he was avoiding the question.

_You and I such a pretty thing, Smile, smile, you know you thrill me…_

"I mean, I want us to be more than just sex. We can't keep this up forever." Cameron said, and House pulled her panties down with his teeth. 

"Well, let's hope that's not true, because you seem to dislike me less when we're fucking." House muttered, shoving her underwear into his pocket.

"Well, you're certainly less annoying then." Cameron smirked, and he bit the inside of her thigh, "But seriously.."

_Praise God, try to love try to oh, I have the little death delight, Oh I love you…._

"Shit, are gonna talk about feelings? Can we just not do that?" House grumbled, rubbing his scruff against her thigh.

"I just want to know if you're serious about me." Cameron sighed.

"We're on vacation together in a foreign country where I can get dysentery if I drink the water. How much more serious do I have to be?"

Cameron sighed, irritated now, "Yeah, but where are we _going_?" 

"Why do we have to go anywhere? Why can't we just stay here?" He asked, flirting now. He kissed up her thigh, hoping to distract her. There was nothing happy and shiny down the mental road she was taking.

"Be serious for one second, please?" 

He paused, and looked at her. Pressed his lips over her thigh. He really didn't want to do this right now. But Cameron was stubborn, and when she got shit like this in her head, she did not let it go, no matter what. Better to just tell the truth now, get it over with, and hope they could still have some fun tonight., "I don't want to get married, and I don't want kids. So this is about as serious as I get."

Cameron looked at the ceiling and blinked rapidly. It was stupid to bring this up. She didn't want to have this conversation now, didn't want to think about the end. 

"Then here is good." She smiled, but it was forced. House started to pull away, sensing the mood was over. She felt that familiar desperation well up in her, that need to cling onto him, to keep him with her, "No! Keep going." And she took his hand and pulled him back down. He gave her a look.

"You're not in the mood."

She sat up, with her legs wide open, wearing only her bra, and kissed him savagely, with tongue, teeth, and all her frustration - that he couldn't be different, that she couldn't be different. He pulled back and searched her eyes, saw that she needed this. So he began kissing his way down her thigh again,

"Just enjoy the here and now, yeah?" He murmured.

"By all means." She whispered back, and clutched at his head as he went down for her.


	5. Chapter 5

House woke up early the next morning, shortly after sunrise. His leg hurt like hell, and even though he took a Vicodin, he knew from experience that it would be awhile before he felt relief from the pain. When it was this bad, there was only distraction.

He showered quickly, and when he came out with a towel wrapped around his waist, Cameron was still dead to the world. Sighing, he pulled on his swim trunks and a t-shirt, and then went downstairs for coffee.

Not that it could be called coffee. He spat the offending liquid back into his cup, and filled his rumbling tummy with a bagel and cereal from the complimentary continental breakfast. He tried to watch TV or read the newspaper, but both were in Spanish.

With a bored sigh, he lumbered into the hotel gift shop, the first customer of the day. He found several toys to amuse himself, including a Jacob's ladder, and a Cup and Ball toy.

Then he picked out a pen for Wilson. He grinned to himself – when you turned the pen over, the woman pictured was suddenly naked. He planned on slipping it into Mr. Pocket's Protector's lab coat on his first day back, and hoped Wilson would pull it out and use it, unwittingly, at a grossly inappropriate time.

Snickering to himself, he picked out two t-shirts, one for him and one for Cameron. As he stood at the counter, a simple string necklace with an amber bead on the end caught his attention. He bought that too, on impulse. Maybe he would give it to Cameron sometime.

At a loss for what to do, he wandered out to the pool with his purchases, and sat in a chaise. The pool was empty – everyone was still sleeping off all the partying they had done the night before. House decided now would be a good time to check in on his good friend back in New Jersey. He took out is phone and pressed #3, his speed dial assignment for Wilson.

"He-hello?" Wilson's voice croaked over the phone. It was 9:00 am on a Sunday.

"Hello, Jimmy. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"House?! Are you okay? What's wrong? Are you in jail?" Wilson's voice was suddenly clear, and very worried.

"Relax! I'm not in jail; no one's dead or dying. I just wanted to say hi." House replied.

"Is Cameron pregnant? Is that why you're calling this early?" Wilson asked, determined to get answers.

"What the hell would make you ask that?" House sounded incredulous.

"I just…never mind. Never mind. So, you're just calling. Are you having fun on your vacation?"

"It's hotter than Satan's balls here."

"Right….so you're not enjoying the location. Are you enjoying the company?"

"Oh yeah. I've made tons of new friends. We're all gonna do the Conga later!"

"Lovely. So why are you really calling me?" Wilson asked.

House sighed, "Its Cameron. She started talking about getting serious last night."

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh is right. And I told her the truth – I don't want to get married, don't want kids."

"I'm guessing that didn't go over well?"

"I don't know yet. But why can't we just have fun?" House started to play with his ball and cup toy. The crack of the ball against the cup was obnoxious.

Wilson sighed, "Women want commitment. They seem to think that's fun. Maybe you should reconsider getting married?"

"Hey, just because you pop the question like a piece of bubble gum doesn't mean I have to." House snarked.

"Fine, why don't you just ask her to move in?" Wilson suggested, yawning.

House was silent on the other end of the phone. All Wilson could hear was some odd clacking sound, "House? You still there?"

"I'm not a fun person to live with." House sighed.

"Amen to that. Now go ask her to move in." And Wilson hung up.

House walked back into the hotel room, determined to wake Cameron up whether she liked it or not. She'd been lazy this entire vacation, sleeping in late every morning. Seeing her still lying in bed, House dropped his bag of purchases next to the bed, and climbed in. He traced his forefinger down her back, and when that didn't wake her up, he began to press warm kisses all over her exposed skin. Cameron groaned and scooted away from him, towards the edge of the bed.

"Wake up, _senorita_! We have tons of lazing about to do on the beach." House yelled in her ear, and Cameron jerked.

"Ahh! Just let me sleep a little longer!"

"But I've been up for hours! I'm bored. Come to the beach, you can nap on the chaise." House whined.

"Urrrrg." Cameron gurgled, "What have you been doing for hours?"

"Do you have any idea how cheap hookers are here? God bless the power of the American dollar." House sighed happily.

Cameron turned over and gave him a frosty glare.

House smiled, unrepentant, "Someday, you're going to find my hooker jokes funny."

"_Go. Away_." Cameron sniped, and turned back over to go to sleep.

House's hand reached around and felt her forehead. No fever, "Does your stomach hurt?"

Cameron slapped at his hand, and pulled her pillow over her head to drown him out.

He retaliated by turning on the TV. He found a Spanish soap opera, and put it on the highest volume setting. He knew it wouldn't be long before the rapid fire speech and amplified sound would force his prey to surrender.

"Alright! God! Let's go to the stupid beach!" Cameron yelled, threw the covers back, and stormed naked to the bathroom.

House smiled with satisfaction and turned the volume down. Man alive was she cranky this morning. It could have been from the talk they'd had last night…but he'd given her three orgasms after that. She couldn't still be angry after that. Maybe she had PMS? He yelled over the TV, "Are you about to get your period?"

Cameron emerged from the bathroom, wearing only her bikini bottoms and a look on her face that made House fear for his life, "_What_ did you just say?"

"I was just saying you look really cute in that bathing suit." He swallowed nervously. She was in a seriously wicked mood today, and as fun as it was to tease her, it wasn't worth life and limb to get off another wisecrack.

Cameron narrowed her eyes at him and walked back into the bathroom. He heard her brushing her teeth, and then a minute later, the sound of her toothbrush clattering on the floor. He stood, concerned, and then heard her retching.

"Shit!" House exclaimed, and hobbled to the bathroom. Cameron was hugging the toilet in her green bikini. After spitting a few times to clear her mouth, she stood shakily, and flushed the toilet.

"Remind me not to order their steak again." She moaned, and poured some toothpaste in her mouth to swish around. She'd have to buy a new toothbrush – there was no way she was putting the one on the floor back in her mouth.

House shook his head, confused, "If it was the steak, you would have been sick last night."

Cameron frowned at him, and then shrugged, "It's probably dehydration then. I drank too much tequila yesterday, too much time in the sun." Satisfied her mouth was now minty fresh, she pushed past him and walked into the bedroom.

House watched her walk around the room – she looked utterly exhausted. She'd been slow to get up for a couple of weeks recently, but things had been relaxed. There was no hurry to get up on vacation, no rush to be anywhere on the weekends. Her ER shifts started after noon, so she slept in most mornings.

A terrifying idea suddenly burst into House's brain, and filled him with an immense sense of dread, "When was your last period?"

Cameron groaned, "What is your obsession with my period today? I don't have P.M.S."

"Just tell me when it was." House ordered.

"Three weeks ago, okay? I'll get it again next week. Where the hell is my romance novel?" Cameron pawed through her suitcase.

"Did you take your pill everyday?" He asked.

Cameron looked up at him, "I switched to the ring a few months ago, and you know that. Oh! Here it is!" She shoved the historical romance into her purse.

"You didn't mess up the timing on the ring?" House tapped his cane.

"Oh my _God_! What is your issue?! No, I did not mess anything up!" Cameron stood, exasperated.

"Because I think you're pregnant!" House yelled back, and Cameron threw her hands in the air.

"You are such a nutcase! I'm just dehydrated. I'll make sure to drink more on the beach today." And then she breezed past him to the door.

House limped after her, and tried to convince himself she was right. It could just be dehydration. It could be a hundred things.

Or it could be just one tiny thing.


	6. Chapter 6

"_Hola, senorita_. One bottle of tequila, _por favor_."

"The whole bottle, senor?"

"Ci! Bring the _whole_ bottle." House placed his order the waitress employed by hotel to serve its guests on the beach.

"Just bottled water for me. _Gracias_." Cameron said when the woman looked to her, and when the waitress left, she narrowed her eyes at House, "I just want you to know, I'm not going to army-carry your drunk behind back to the room." 

"It's called morning sickness for a reason, Cameron." House replied through gritted teeth.

"You are _delusional._ It could just be a hangover. If you throw up tomorrow morning after this ridiculous drinking binge, should I go buy you a pregnancy test?"

House looked at her pointedly, "Your breasts hurt. You told me to be gentle last night because they're sore. And they look swollen."

Cameron rubbed the bridge of her nose, "I'm going to get my period next week. It's not unusual for them to hurt."

House crossed his arms across his chest, and Cameron eyed his biceps appreciatively despite herself, "You. Are. So. Pregnant."

"I'm not arguing with you about this any more. I'm going to lie here, and ignore you." Cameron said, and pulled out her romance novel.

House sulked in his chaise as she read, and when the tequila came, he began his own private siesta, and did his best to drown the rising tide of panic inside. 

House woke awhile in his chaise lounge, and felt like death warmed over. It was definitely not a good idea to consume that much tequila - two thirds of the bottle - on a hot beach. He reached over and grabbed Cameron's water, and chugged the rest. It made his stomach feel like hell, but at least his head was starting to throb less. He looked over at the chaise beside him, and noticed it was empty. 

He frowned, and squinted towards the water, trying to pick her out in the crowd.

"Look who's awake." Cameron's voice came from his left side - she was walking towards him with a water bottle in each hand. He let out a sigh as she swung her leg over his chaise, and then straddled his waist. She put one of the water bottles against his forehead and he groaned with pleasure – it felt glorious.

"How long was I out?" House asked, and took the bottle from her, opening it and gulping it down.

"Two hours. You look like shit." Cameron told him, and opened her bottle. He glared at her.

"I feel like shit. Why did you let me drink all that tequila?"

Cameron smiled and poured some of her ice cold water onto his stomach. She watched with delight as his stomach muscles bunched and he sat up abruptly. With a wicked laugh, she drank more of her water. 

"Witch." He muttered, but wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her on his lap. He liked her there, she smelled amazing. Like coconut suntan lotion and strawberries and something indescribable underneath it all, the smell of her skin. His eyes looked over her shoulder as he rubbed his five o clock shadow over her collar bone, and fixed on a random beachgoer. A woman, wearing a bikini, heavily pregnant. She didn't look good in the bikini at all. Suddenly, a picture of Cameron heavily pregnant, in a bikini, popped into his mind, and in his head, she looked sort of cute. House shook that thought away quickly, as it horrified him. 

"I think I need to reapply your suntan lotion, baby." Cameron whispered from next to his right ear, and he let her push him back down onto the chaise lounge. With a bright smile, she put down her water, and picked up the suntan lotion. He rested his hands on her hips, and rewarded her with a smile. 

Cameron squeezed a line of lotion onto his stomach, and then used both hands to slowly rub it into his feverishly warm skin. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her hands on him, the way they skirted up his sides, and tangled in the hair on his chest. She applied more to her hands and did his arms and shoulders next. She spent a lot of time there, because there was something about his arms that drove her crazy. Maybe it was they way they looked when he was making love to her, the way they flexed right next to her head as he held his weight off her body. She rubbed lotion into his neck next, enjoying the solid column of his throat, and watched him shudder. She grinned - she could always get him in the mood by doing something to his neck.

Cameron leaned forward and kissed him, pressing her breasts to the hard muscle of his chest. His lips were warm, dry, and soft, and he opened them slowly for her. She slipped her tongue between his teeth and tasted the tang of tequila. House's hands suddenly gripped her hips, and he pressed his groin upwards against hers, showing her how hard he was for her already. Apparently the tequila wasn't so strong that it would impair him. That, or his tolerance had gone up considerably.

She whimpered into his mouth and pulled back a fraction, rubbing her hard nipples back and forth on his chest. The friction her swimsuit and his skin against her sensitive peaks made her moan. Her breasts hurt, but this somehow felt _a-fucking-mazing_. 

House slid his hand up from her hip to her breast, and flicked the pad of his thumb across her right nipple. Cameron jerked violently over him - that had felt exquisite. She sat back, and gasped for air, trying to pull herself together. Having sex in the ocean was one thing, but she didn't want to do it in full view of everyone on this chaise.

"Let's go in the water." She breathed, and moved to stand. House caught her hips and held her where she was.

"You're pregnant, Cameron. Admit it." He said, and she could see that although his body was up for it, his mind wasn't. Cameron tried to slow her breathing, and wished her nipples weren't on fire. She wanted nothing more than to drag him to the ocean, willing or not, and have him suck on her nipples until she came. She shivered at the thought, almost able to feel the roughness of his chin, the hot sweet warm pull of his mouth and tongue.

"What do I have to do to convince you I'm not?" She asked, exasperated.

"Take a test." House replied, and she rolled her eyes.

"How about you just believe me?" 

"Everybody lies." He replied, his universal truth. 

"I don't lie to you." Cameron spat back, and stood abruptly. Suddenly the mood was gone, and all she wanted to do now was strangle him.

"No, you lie to yourself." House sat up, and watched her angrily gather up her beach things.

"Bite me." Cameron hissed, and stalked back towards the hotel. House leaned back onto his chaise with a frustrated sigh, and tried to think of a way to trick Cameron into taking a pregnancy test. She was pregnant, and she was going to tell him he was right, and then they were going to do something about it.

It was, after all, just a parasite.


	7. Chapter 7

House limped into the hotel room after an hour, hoping Cameron's temper had cooled during the interim. He would talk to her again; try to make her see reason. And if that didn't work, then he'd find a way to make her take the test. He wasn't above hurling himself into the bathroom when she was peeing and sticking a test between her legs.

She was standing on the balcony, staring out at the perfect azure blue sea. She had changed into a sleeveless white dress that came to her knees, and her long blonde hair flirted with the warm breeze coming off the water.

A box caught his attention in his peripheral vision – it was open, and it was a pregnancy test. House darted into the bathroom, and searched it frantically. Not on the counter, not in the trash. It wasn't there. Confused, he came back out of the bathroom, and looked around the hotel room. Where the hell was it?

"Cam – where is the test?" House asked in an animated voice, but she didn't answer. She didn't even move. Suspicious, he walked out onto the balcony, and saw her right hand clutching a small white stick. Her face was impassive, emotionless. And she looked so damn beautiful it made his heart ache, "Come on, let me see it."

She turned her hand over and opened it slowly, revealing a small pink plus sign.

House felt his mouth go dry and his stomach drop to his knees. _Holy shit_, she was actually pregnant. Cameron shook her head slowly, and stared at the test.

"I don't know how…I didn't mess up. I _know_ I didn't mess up." Then she turned and walked past him back into the room. She climbed onto the bed and sat there Indian style, and stared at the test in her hand.

House came back into the room, and shut the balcony door. The room was abruptly silent, "You have to get rid of it."

Cameron sat perfectly still, he wasn't even sure if she was breathing. Then she looked up at him, her expression dazed, "I don't believe in abortion."

"I don't care! Do it anyway." House yelled, and began to pace the floor.

"No! We made it; I'm not going to kill it!" Cameron said through gritted teeth, and tears started to pour down her pale cheeks.

"It's a bunch of cells, not a baby! You're not killing our baby, your ending an unwanted pregnancy!"

"It's my body, it's my choice." Cameron pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It was all she could do to not stand up and go punch him in the face.

"It's my life too! I don't want a goddamn baby! I'll never forgive you if you go through with this – never! Keep it, and we're over." House made a cutting motion with his hand, and Cameron lost it.

She jumped to her feet, walked two steps, and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Her hand stung from the impact, and she cradled it against her stomach, as he turned his head back to look at her. He put a hand to his burning cheek, and met her eyes. And she could see the panic there now, that ever present fear of change. And she realized that in his own twisted way, he was fighting for them, fighting to keep her in his life.

She stepped back and crossed her arms across her chest, "Just let me think, okay? Whatever I decide, I'm not getting a coat hanger abortion in Mexico. I just need to think."

House tapped his cane a few times, and then abruptly left, slamming the door behind him. Cameron's entire body jerked at the violence of the sound, and then she crawled into bed, and let herself weep. If she kept this baby, she would lose the love of her life. And if she killed it to keep him, she would lose herself.

Night fell, and Cameron dreamt. Horrible nightmares, full of House's accusing Caribbean blue eyes, then flashes of him performing an abortion on her. Then the images switched, and she was in House's tub at home, with hot water pouring down on top of her, watching a steady flow of blood flow down the drain. An overwhelming sense of grief and helplessness washed over her as she watched her dreams hemorrhage and swirl down the drain.

She woke with a sob, and sat up in bed, her head reeling. The bed was empty except for her. She looked around the pitch black room, looking for him. Did he never come back to the room? No, wait, there he was, sleeping on the couch. Covered in a cold sweat, and breathing hard, Cameron climbed out of bed and shuffled over to where he slept. She couldn't see him well, could only make out the outline of his body.

She reached out and touched him, hesitantly. He didn't move. She could hear the soft sigh of his breathing, knew he was asleep. But she was scared – the room was dark, and those dreams kept flashing through her mind, and she just wanted to be comforted, just for a minute.

"Wake up!" Cameron cried, and shook him as hard as she could. House woke, and grabbed her arms reflexively.

"Wha-?" He croaked, and she lurched forward to hug him. He sat up slowly, trying to figure out what was going on, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I had nightmares." She whimpered, and climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist. She clung to him desperately, as she always did when she had bad dreams. He sighed, tired, and ran his fingers through her tangled hair. He'd comforted her like this before. When she suppressed her emotions and fears during the day, they came back to torment her at night.

"It's okay now. I've got you." He murmured next to hear ear, and wrapped his arms around her tighter. He remembered their fight from earlier that night, and felt that familiar crushing weight in his chest, saw his only loneliness looming on the horizon. He was going to lose her. This parasite would end them.

One second he was just holding her, and then next, House dumped Cameron on the floor and stood. She let out a startled yelp, and then he grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the bed, which was difficult with his leg, but he managed to do it.

"What are you doing?!" Cameron asked, alarmed, as he pushed onto the mattress. He didn't respond, didn't even make a noise. She felt his hands grab her pajama top, heard it rip as he yanked it over her head. Then his hands were on her pants, and in seconds they were off her body and on the floor.

Cameron sensed there was some very, very angry sex coming her way as she heard his clothes hit the floor. A thrill of fear ran through her. She couldn't see anything, and it sure didn't sound like he was in the mood for foreplay tonight. Which was necessary so sex wouldn't hurt for her, he was too large otherwise. Cameron scrambled for the other side of the bed, but House heard her move, and he seized her legs.

"Stop it." He growled, and flipped her over onto her back. Cameron let out a startled cry, and felt warring emotions – she wanted this, but she was scared it would hurt at the same time. She felt the mattress dip on either side of her head and knew his hands were there. He was breathing hard, but he wasn't doing anything to her now, he was just hovering over her.

And then she felt his lips brush against hers, feather light and impossibly soft. The absolute darkness, the fear, the adrenaline – all of it made that one touch exquisite. It made her inner muscles spasm, made her nipples peak and ache. She lifted her head, trying to catch his lips for a deeper kiss, but he sensed it and pulled away. With a frustrated sound, she let her head fall back to the bed, and his lips returned, brushing over her forehead, her eyelids, and her lips again, and then her neck.

This was unexpected; he was being careful now, like she was a piece of glass, when moments before he'd been pinning her down and dragging her around the room. The stark contrast made her nervous, made her tremble underneath him.

Her hands ran up his arms, over his shoulders, and then down the smooth line of his back. She used the pads of her fingers first, and then her nails as he shivered under her touch. She felt his teeth at her ear, the heat of his breath in her hair.

"Tell me you love me." He whispered; his voice dark and seductive, but filled with pain. Cameron felt tears fill her eyes, felt them spill down her cheeks in the dark. He had her whole heart in his hands, and knew just how to squeeze it to make it hurt the most. She remained stubbornly silent, so he pulled her hands down off his back, and pinned them to the bed at her wrists. Having him hold her down always drove her crazy, he knew that. She arched up underneath him, desperate to feel his entire body pressing her down. But he kept himself above her, away, just out of reach.

"Say it!" He ordered and she heard the warm thread of anger in his voice.

"Or what?" Cameron challenged. She wasn't going to give in that easy. He'd only said I love you to her a handful of times, but he always wanted to hear her say it. It was a game to him - to make her break again, to make her admit how much she needed him, when he never needed her.

"I'll make you say it." He threatened, and then pressed his body down hers. His skin was hot in comparison to hers; it felt delicious and illicit and it was everything she wanted.

"No!" She hissed back, trying to ignore how amazing his body felt against hers. Let him make her say it, there was no way those three words were going to pass her lips, especially after all he'd put her through this-

His mouth suddenly latched onto her left nipple. Cameron bucked underneath him – her nipples were incredibly sensitive from the hormones, had been aching for his touch since he threw her down on the bed. But to have his mouth there, sucking hard, nipping, scraping, it was too much. She shrieked and fought him, trying to free her hands to stop the onslaught. It was glorious and terrible at the same time, the perfect combination of pleasure and pain. He switched to her other nipple, torturing her with quick flicks of his tongue.

"Stop! God, please stop. It's too much!" She begged, and he pulled back. She tried to catch her breath, but then he started to roll his hips against her. His hard length of him rubbed directly over her clit, and it brought a ragged cry from her lips. She was so close to orgasm, it was ridiculous, and all he'd done was hold her down and suck on her nipples.

"Say it and I'll stop." He offered, and then lowered his mouth to her nipples again, while rocking his hops just enough to keep her building towards orgasm, but not enough to send her over the edge.

She lasted two more minutes, and the she couldn't take it anymore, "I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" She sobbed, and then she gasped as he slid inside her, all the way until he couldn't go any further. The sensation of his body stretching hers wide, when her inner muscles were already randomly convulsing sent her over the edge. She came violently, her body clutching at him, and she screamed into his chest as he slowly pulled himself most of the way out. He paused until her orgasm tapered off, and she was panting, spent, and then he slammed inside her again, moving fast over her g-spot.

It was just too much. The pleasure was too intense, mixed with the bruising power of his hands gripping her wrists, the feel of him stretching her, the agony in her heart, and the fear that this may be the last time she was with him like this. She wrapped her arms and legs around him tight, clenched her eyes shut, pressed her face into his chest, and let out a constant stream of curses and moans and gasps and cries and screams as she came again and again until he finished.

He collapsed on top of her, both of them slick with sweat and breathing hard. Cameron's face was soaked with tears, and she was hiccupping softly. House was reluctant to pull out, and she didn't want him to feel him leave.

"No one ever hurts me like you do." She sobbed in the dark. He pulled out, gathered her in his arms, and pressed his face into her hair, losing himself in her scent.

"I know." Came his quiet reply.


	8. Chapter 8

The alarm went off at 10:00 am, screeching in Cameron's ear in Spanish. She groaned, rolled over, and slapped at it until it shut up. Then she froze, because she was suddenly unbearably nauseous. She closed her eyes and tried counting, saying the alphabet and even listing infectious diseases in her head, but then House turned over and made the bed bounce her, and it was all for nothing.

She scrambled for the bathroom and fell to her knees, worshipping the porcelain throne. When it was over, she flushed and then sprawled out on the cold tile floor.

House appeared in the bathroom door, his hair sticking up in every direction, his stubble more pronounced than usual, and his eyes narrowed with exhaustion. She looked up at him, standing there in his cute pajama pants and shirt, and wished fervently that he was the only lying on the floor.

"Are you going to be sick again?" He asked.

"All I know is that this seems like a good place to be right now."

"I have to pee." He bit his lip.

Cameron made a sweeping motion with her hands, "Do you need a personal invitation?"

With a grunt, he hobbled around her, trying not to step on any of her limbs. He stood in front of the toilet and pulled himself out of the front of his pajama pants, but nothing happened. He turned his head and looked at Cameron, who was staring at his back, "It's hard to do this with you staring at me like that."

Cameron raised one hand weakly, and gave him the finger. He rolled his eyes and turned back around. He started to whistle, and his bladder finally relaxed. He washed his hands after, and looked down at her again.

"We have to be at the airport in an hour."

"Can you pack for me? I just need to lie here in agony for a little while longer."

"Are you going to get mad at me for just stuffing everything into your suitcase?"

Cameron groaned, "I don't care if we leave all my shit here, just let me lie here for awhile."

House went back into the bedroom, and then returned a minute later with a pillow. He stuffed it under her head, and then disappeared again. She smiled over the small gesture, and listened to him pack their things. He was done in record time, which meant he really did just stuff everything into the suitcases. Then he came back into the bathroom, and held out his arms to help her up.

"I'm not moving. Go. Away."

"We have to take a shower. I'll help you up." He grabbed her arms.

"I don't want to take a shower. I want to lie here and die in peace!" Cameron whined and weakly tried to pull her arms from his grasp.

"Quit yer bellyachin' soldier, and get yer ass up!" House yelled in his best drill sergeant imitation, and managed to drag her to her feet without injuring either of them. Cameron looked downright green as she swayed on her feet, and House was quick to get the shower ready. He stripped off her clothes quickly, and then ushered her in, then followed a second later, snapping the shower curtain shut.

"If I puke on you in here, you're gonna be real sorry." Cameron muttered, and lurched forward, grabbing onto his arms.

"Hey, don't complain to me. I want you to get rid of it. You wouldn't be barfing all over the place right now if you weren't pregnant." He said, and turned her around abruptly.

"Why didn't I think of that?! I'll just get an abortion and the nausea will just disappear! Oh happy day!" Cameron snapped, immediately furious.

"It would be a happy day." House muttered, and then grabbed the bottle of shampoo she'd brought along. He poured a generous amount in his hand, and began to lather her hair.

Cameron was silent for a minute, and then her voice came out shaky, "It's a part of both of us." Then she sniffed, and House had the distinct suspicion she was crying.

"It's a parasite, and it's making you sick. Get rid of it." House replied severely, and rubbed her scalp. Then he held her head under the water so her hair would rinse, and she stood still as hot streams of soapy water ran down her body.

"Do you want to kill all unborn babies, or just yours?" Cameron snapped, and got out of the shower abruptly. She dried herself off angrily, scraping the towel against her skin.

"It's not a baby! It's a clump of cells!" House yelled voice full of frustration.

Cameron stared in the mirror at her hair wet and tangled, and felt despair. She was so bloody tired, and sick, and brushing her hair was just too hard right now. She squeezed out the excess water as best she could, walked over to the toilet, flushed it, and then wandered into the bedroom to find some clothes to throw on her naked body.

House let out a pained yell as the water turned ice cold.

A triumphant smile spread across Cameron's mouth, and she was glad to hear him suffer. She rummaged through her suitcase (which did look like a five year old had packed it but whatever) and picked out a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. She wasn't going to wear jeans over her aching tummy, no way. She dressed slowly, and then slipped on some flip flops. She would regret it when they got back to New Jersey, as it was freezing cold there, but she didn't have the energy to put on socks or shoes. Finally somewhat ready, she fell back on the bed and vowed to never move again.

House emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist, and water still beading on his chest. He looked at Cameron, who was snoring softly, and guilt made his stomach clench. She obviously felt awful, and it was half his fault. And he knew that badgering her to have an abortion wasn't making her feel any better, but he had to make her see reason somehow.

With a sigh, he rummaged through her suitcase and pulled out a sweatshirt, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes. He redressed her feet, tying her shoelaces and threw the sweatshirt on the bed so she could wrap it around her waist and have it ready for when they got to New Jersey.

He dressed himself quickly, throwing on a pair of jeans, a tight t-shirt, and a pair of orange and black tennis shoes. He ran a quick hand through his hair, checked his reflection, and felt satisfied with his appearance. A glance at the clock told him they were going to be late soon, so he called the front desk, went through their automatic check out process, and then ordered a cab.

"Cam. Wake up, we gotta go to the airport now." House shook her roughly. Cameron woke, and gave him a furious look.

"I'm nauseous and you shake me awake? Are you nuts?"

"Up! We have to go before we miss our flight. You can sleep on the plane." He yanked her to her feet, and then pointed at her suitcase. She shot him a dark look, but followed his limping gait to the elevators, dragging both suitcases behind her.

At the airport, Cameron was utterly miserable. She still felt sicker than a dog, and claustrophobic from all the people around her, and irritated by security rummaging through her bag. She was about two minutes from losing her shit completely and screaming at everyone to leave her the hell alone, when House did it for her. He insulted the security officer, which bought him an extensive body search. He was furious by the time they arrived to their gate, and Cameron collapsed into a seat at he railed on and on about the security agent who had copped a feel.

Her hair had dried, but it was still a tangled mess. She didn't care. At all. She just curled up on the airport seat, and laid her head on his lap, determined to nap before they got called to board their flight. House continued to rant on and on, as she dozed, and his left hand unconsciously pet her hair.

At some point while she was asleep, House moved her head carefully, and walked over to a small airport store. He looked at their travel section and found what he was looking for – acupressure bands for seasickness. The bands were used a lot at the hospital for cancer patients going through chemo. Maybe it was the placebo affect, but it didn't matter to House, as long as they worked. He bought a package of those, and a few trashy tabloid magazines.

When he got back, their flight was about to board. Cameron was awake, and up at him with a furrowed brow.

"I'm hungry. Like starving. But I feel like I could be sick too. What the hell is that?" She asked, irritated.

"They'll have something to eat on the plane. Come on, we're boarding." He said, and they made their way onto the plane. He was relived he could bring his cane on the plane because there was no corkscrew in it. Cameron shuffled behind him, grim as death.

They walked back into coach, and Cameron collapsed into her window seat, grateful to be sitting down again. House sat next to her, shoved his cane under the seat in front of him, and immediately opened the seasickness wrist bands. Cameron watched as he quickly slipped them onto her wrists.

He shrugged at her questioning look, "They're supposed to help nausea. Supposedly it works. I have no idea." And then he put on his headphones and lay back for a nap.

His rest was quickly interrupted by a three hundred pound woman squeezing in the seat next to him. Most of her overflowed into his seat, and he was squished. He looked over at Cameron, who was staring back at him with wide eyes and a panicked expression on her face.

His hand shot out and grabbed the airsick bag from his seat; he opened it in record time, and had it front of Cameron's face three seconds later. She took it and threw up.

Then the obese woman on his left did the same.

House buried his face in his hands, and wondered how the hell he was going to survive the flight.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time the flight from hell finally ended, House was close to losing his shit completely. His leg was on fire and the muscle cramped from being forced in one position for so long. The smell of vomit was scorched into his nose hairs, and he knew he smelled like that disgusting fat woman's body odor, because she had practically sat on him for the whole flight.

He and Cameron waited for their bags by the baggage claim in stony silence. House popped two Vicodin, and promised himself a whole bottle of scotch when he got home. He was tired, angry, and didn't want to be around anyone right now, especially Cameron. She was so pale she looked like a vampire, and every time he looked at her, all he could think of was that parasite growing inside her. The bags went around again, and House pressed the head of his cane in between his eyes, trying to keep himself from screaming with frustration.

Cameron was a statue next to him, wan and miserable. All she wanted to do was go home with him, crawl into bed, and pass out for the next eight hours strait. But she could tell he was itching to get away from her. And she knew that if she didn't address it soon, he'd probably start some stupid fight to accomplish his goal. And _man alive_ she was tired of fighting.

"I'm going to go back to my apartment and nap." She said suddenly, and winced – her throat was sore from her stomach acid.

House looked at her, surprised, and then realized she'd read his mood. Usually that pissed him off – he liked to be mysterious. But she'd always been good at reading him, and since they'd started dating, she'd become eerily proficient at it. He was grateful she knew he wanted to be left alone, but felt torn, because he knew her well enough to know she didn't want to be alone.

"Okay. You'll be at work tomorrow?" He took the coward's way out.

She nodded, and then spotted their bags. She yanked both of them off the turnstile, and they walked out of the airport together. House hailed for two taxis, and as they waited for the cars to pull up, Cameron cleared her throat, "Could I have a hug?"

She felt pathetic for asking, but right now, she didn't care. She was pathetic, and he knew it, and she knew it, and that was that.

House leaned his cane against his bag and pulled her into his arms. She sank into his body, grateful to lose herself for just a second. She loved this man more than she ever thought possible, and now she was losing him, bit by bit.

"I love you." She croaked, sounding broken.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and pulled away, "I'll see you tomorrow."

House took the first cab, and the driver put his suitcase in the trunk. He looked at her again as the car pulled away, and it hurt him, to see standing alone, so fragile, so small. When he couldn't see her anymore, he pulled out his cell phone, and told Wilson to meet him at his apartment. True friend that he was, Wilson dropped everything, and did just that.

He let Wilson into his apartment, answering the door in pajama pants and a Grateful Dead t-shirt. Wilson was dressed in a suit.

"What's with the suit?" House asked, and limped over to the kitchen table. A bottle of scotch and two glasses were sitting on the table. House had finished half the bottle already.

"I was on a date. What's the emergency?"

"With who?" House asked, instantly curious.

"No one you know. What's going on?" Wilson pressed.

House downed some liquid courage, "When I was in Mexico, you asked me if Cameron was pregnant. Why did you ask me that?"

Wilson frowned, "It was a joke. If you remember, I also asked if you were in jail."

"So she didn't say anything to you before we left?"

"No! What is this about?"

"Cameron's pregnant." House announced, and he could have been announcing she had cancer.

Wilson's mouth dropped open, "How?"

"We had sex. Sperm met egg. Life begins! It's a miracle, blady blady blah. But she was on birth control. It shouldn't have happened."

"Right. Please tell me you haven't done anything stupid yet." Wilson took the other glass on the table and poured a hefty amount of scotch. Then he sipped it.

House rubbed his eyes, "I told her she should get an abortion."

Wilson sputtered and choked, "You what? Are you insane?!"

"No. I just know I'd make a horrible father."

Wilson shook his head, still coughing, "You don't know that."

House's eyes went wide with incredulity, "Yes, I _do_ know that! My father was…I didn't have the best example of fatherly love, okay? I'm abrasive, I'm obsessed with my work, I'm addicted to Vicodin, and I'm a cripple! What in all that suggests to you that I'd be a good father?"

Wilson sighed, "Let's see…you could cut back on your hours, be nicer, look into other methods of pain management and go through rehab – _for real this time_ – and being a cripple doesn't stop you from being a good parent."

"I'm not going to be a father." House said, stubbornly.

"Well, I think she has some say in that."

"She'll get an abortion. I'll convince her, somehow."

"House," Wilson exclaimed, "this is Cameron we're talking about. There is no way she'll get an abortion. She's going to have that baby, and you're going to have to deal with it."

House slammed his glass down on the table, "You were supposed to come over and commiserate. Make me feel better. Instead, you come over and just lecture me."

"And that surprises you? Look - do you love her?"

House rolled his eyes.

"Do you love her?!" Wilson persisted.

"Yes."

"Then do the right thing."

"What's the right thing?"

"Just stand beside her. Make an effort. Once the kid gets here, I think you'll warm up to him."

House poured himself another full glass, "You've got it backwards. The right thing to do here is to get rid of it."

Wilson stood, and squeezed House's shoulder. And without another word, he left.

And for the first time in awhile, House felt truly alone. Cameron wasn't giggling on the couch, or making dinner. His place felt different without her there…empty. Sure, they'd had their rough patches, but overall, they had fun together. Was this what his life would become again without her? Drinking alone at home? Distracting himself with puzzles and music and bad TV?

Disgusted with his train of thought, House stood and limped to the bedroom, bringing the bottle of scotch with him. He climbed into bed, took a large swallow from the bottle, and then put it on the bedside table. He felt the thrill of alcohol in his blood, and turned out the bedside lamp.

Turning on his left side automatically, he reached out an arm to wrap around Cameron, and met the cool even surface of his sheets instead.


	10. Chapter 10

-1Chapter 10

House had been avoiding her for a week, and Cameron was at the end of her rope - she'd tried calling his cell phone, left four messages. He didn't answer his work line. Whenever she went to look for him in his office, he wasn't there. When she tried to catch him at home, he wasn't there either. Seven days went by, and she hadn't seen or heard from him.

Cameron was finished playing games.

She burst into Wilson's office on the seventh day. He was on his couch, on top of someone. Cameron let out a shocked squeak, and Wilson shot up off the couch, revealing his companion. Cameron's mouth dropped open in shock. It was _Cuddy_.

Wilson cleared his throat nervously as Cuddy rearranged her clothing so she was decent again. Then she stood, and looked at her shocked employee, "Is it too much to ask that you keep this to yourself?"

Cameron blinked, and then shook her head, "No - I won't tell anyone."

"Including House? Because if you tell him, you may as well tell the whole hospital. Or the tri-state area." Cuddy sighed.

Cameron looked at her feet, and then back up at her boss, "I won't say a thing. But...the two of you should tell him. If he figures it out on his own, there'll be hell to pay."

Cuddy sighed again, and then shot Wilson a smile. Then she left the office, her stilettos clicking on the shining hospital floors. Cameron looked back at Wilson, who was bright red.

He cleared his throat again, "Is there a reason you never knock?"

Cameron had the grace to look embarrassed, "I'm sorry. I...I usually only come here when I'm really upset..."

"You can come when you're not incredibly upset. You know. To chat, do a crossword..."

Cameron blushed, and then shook her head with a woeful smile, "House and I both use you, don't we? I'm sorry for that too."

"Don't be. Apparently I like being needed. I'm assuming you're here because House is avoiding you?"

She nodded.

Wilson gave her his famous sympathetic smile, "I know just what to do."

House opened his front door wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans, and seven days of beard growth. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked worn down. Wilson entered, and then motioned to Cameron, who had been hiding behind him, to follow.

"House." Cameron's voice rang out in the apartment like a bell. House stopped, and turned his head.

Then he glared at Wilson, "Nice move, Judas."

Wilson rolled his eyes, "I think _'Et tu, Brute?'_ is more appropriate. You're nothing like Jesus." He left quickly, and shut the door behind him.

Cameron hesitated by the door. House's bright blue eyes took in every detail, greedy for the sight of her. She was wearing a white peasant blouse and black slacks, and her hair was down, waving around the sharp angles of her face. Her skin was pale, and she looked tired, shaky, unsure of herself. Delicate, and breakable.

She broke his examination, "You've been avoiding me." A fact, not an accusation.

House tapped his cane on the floor nervously, and looked away, "I didn't know what to say anymore."

"Why are you punishing me? This isn't my fault!" She demanded, and stalked towards him. House backed up a step, then two.

"No, Its your _choice_."

Before he could back away any more, Cameron slipped her arms through his, wrapping her thin arms around his waist. He grunted, but didn't push her away. Cameron was disgusted with herself - even though she was furious at him, even though he'd been an ass for avoiding her all week, she still felt like swooning. She craved him like a drug, and the smell of him made her head spin with giddy delight. But he was stiff in her arms, and he didn't return her embrace.

She pulled back a bit, and looked up into his eyes. "I can't do it. I love you...but I just can't do it."

"And I can't do this." He said, and tried to push her away. Cameron held tight, refusing to let him go.

"Just give me tonight? Please? Just one last night, that's all I ask."

House looked down at her face, so full of pain for someone so young, and felt like the lowest form of life on the planet. But he could see that she was telling the truth - in the morning, she would give up. She would admit defeat, and leave.

So he would grant this one last request.

He bent forward, his lips opening slowly, and fit his mouth against hers. It always amazed him, how they came together like puzzle pieces, locking together in perfect harmony. Her lips trembled beneath his, and he deepened the kiss to keep her from crying.

They made their way to his bedroom, and fell on the bed together, one last time. It was sad, and slow, and nothing like their usual frantic post-fight make up sex. Cameron felt his hands everywhere, his mouth all over her aching body, and then did the same to him. She memorized every inch of his skin, every breath, every gasp of pleasure, every kiss.

Sometime around the point when he slid inside her, she began to cry. Silent tears, she couldn't hold them back any longer. This was the most painful goodbye of her life, even more than when her husband had died. That time, she had known there was nothing she could do, and she'd had six months to accept him leaving her. This time, she was the one letting go. She was choosing one life over another, when she wanted desperately to keep them both.

House didn't cry, but she could tell he was in pain. He kissed away her salty tears, and when their eyes locked, she saw that he wanted to change for her, but couldn't. They came together, again and again, and both imagined they heard the tiny heartbeat echoing between them.

When he pulled away, Cameron felt her heart crumble.

At 3:30 in the morning, Cameron woke with her heart racing. A sense of dread came over her, and she broke out into a sweat. Her back hurt like hell, but she couldn't remember what she'd done to hurt it. She was also still wet between her thighs - probably his semen leaving her too. She slid a hand between her legs, and pulled it back out, staring at her fingers in the moonlight.

The liquid was dark. Cameron felt her heart suddenly stop, and her breath expelled in a painful wheeze. When it started again she gasped, and fumbled for the light on the bedside table. The light hurt her eyes, blinding her momentarily. Then she saw it. Bright red blood, covering her hand.

"No!" She yelled, and sat up, tearing the covers away. Blood - everywhere - underneath her, all over her thighs, soaking the sheets. House sat up, startled awake. He looked over at her, saw the blood, and launched into action.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" He yelled, and rolled out of bed. He hobbled around to her side as she gripped herself, trying to keep the blood and baby inside.

House pulled her from the bed, and helped her to the toilet. Cameron fought him the whole way, and refused to sit down. Blood seeped down her legs, forming puddles around her tiny feet.

"You're getting blood everywhere, just sit down." House ordered, and Cameron punched him ineffectually.

"No! I don't care! I don't want this, not like this, not like this!" She shrieked, and then pushed him away. She backed up towards the shower, and then stood there, bleeding.

"I can't stop it! There's nothing I can do to stop it!" He yelled at her, and she looked away. It hurt him, that he was a doctor, a fucking _genius_ - but even he couldn't stop a miscarriage.

Cameron trembled violently, and then turned, ripping the shower curtain open. She stumbled into the tub, turned the water on hot, and sat down, then wrapped her arms around her legs.

House ran his hands through his hair, and walked out into the bedroom. He stared at the blood on Cameron's side of the bed. There was so much of it. And he realized that he didn't feel the relief he expected himself to feel. He hadn't wanted it to end like this. In his mind, an abortion was a medical procedure, a reduction, a cure. But this..._this_ was a violent, bloody loss.

Spurred into action, he peeled the sheets from the bed - everything was soaked - he'd just throw it all out. He stuffed the linens into trash bags, and dragged them to the front door to take out in the morning. He put towels on the bed to soak up what remained on the mattress.

Then he walked back into the bathroom and cleaned the blood off the floor. When that was done, he pulled back the shower curtain. Cameron looked up at him, her eyes accusing, "Are you happy now?"

"No!" He shook his head.

"This is what you wanted isn't it? _Isn't it_?" And then she let out an agonized cry. The cramps were the worst she'd ever experienced. She rocked back and forth, and couldn't swallow the pain, just had to scream and cry it out. Blood and more seeped from between her legs, and swirled down the drain, "Why couldn't it stay? I just wanted it to stay."

House stepped into the shower and sat behind her; pulled her into his arms. She was too weak to protest, too tired to fight him. He wrapped himself around her, hoping the water and his body heat would keep her warm. She shivered in his arms anyway.

"I didn't want it to happen like this." He confessed.

She plunged her hands into her hair, cradling her head, "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. Bad things happen. But…someday, you'll be with a guy who can do this with you. You'll be pregnant again, and that one will stay."

Cameron sobbed, broken, "But I wanted this one."

He held her tighter, and they stayed until the hot water ran out.

The bleeding had slowed, but the miscarriage would continue for the next few days. House made up the couch with plastic, more towels, and old blankets. Cameron put on a pad, a pair of House's pajamas, and then laid down on the couch.

She motioned for him to do the same. House squeezed in behind her, and pulled a few blankets over them to keep her warm.

Neither of them slept. As the sun came up, Cameron turned in his arms to face him, and their eyes met. Though he was exhausted, he saw the burning question in her gaze.

He brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear and answered it, "I'm not going anywhere. You still have me, for what its worth."

She nodded, relieved, and buried her face in his chest.

A life just beginning ends; and a relationship just ending, begins again.


End file.
